


wow, i probably shoulda stayed inside my house.

by Princex_N



Series: i'll bend and break [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Brainweird, Crying, FTM Yaku, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Mom-Friend Yaku, Nausea, Sickfic, Trans Character, Yaku's mom makes an appearance near the end, emetophobia warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6235537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princex_N/pseuds/Princex_N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Yaku sighs. Nothing can ever be easy, and nothing can ever work out the way that they should. Things can, apparently,</em> never<em> be easy.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	wow, i probably shoulda stayed inside my house.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from Twenty One Pilot's [the judge](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbP-aIe51Ek).

Yaku made a mistake, he made a  _fucking_ mistake. 

Dysphoria isn't a thing that Yaku has to deal with a lot of the time. He's not particularly happy about his body, but he doesn't usually have any actual issues with it, until he does. 

Until he does and then he  _does_ and  _shit_ he should have just stayed home.

His whole day was a constant burning anxiety under his skin, a constant litany of _"not a girl not a girl not a girl"_ in his head, hyper aware of how he held himself, how he spoke, how other people saw him. No one said anything, no one  _would_ , but Yaku finds himself unable to think about anything but the fact that even with a binder he still has a very small bump that you could notice if you looked hard enough. 

That's all he can think about, so he doesn't know why the hell he decided that showing up to practice was a good idea. 

He should have stayed home, and instead he came to practice. 

 _Usually_ it's not a big deal. He takes off the binder and puts on a sports bra and no one  _cares_ , but today, Yaku does, and he stares at the bra in his hand and can't feel anything but a sick mixture of anger and anxiety. Usually he can take off his binder, today he can't even consider it. 

But breaking a rib isn't going to do anything for anyone, and if he does manage to hurt himself, then it's going to mean a longer period of time where he can't wear his binder. And just because he doesn't always feel dysphoric doesn't mean that he's okay with not wearing his binder. 

So if he wants to practice, he's going to have to take it off. 

Yaku doesn't want to take it off. 

He tries to distract himself by glancing around at the others, most of the other players have already changed and gone out to the gym. 

Kuroo is still there, looking like he's weighing the pros and cons of slamming his head in the locker. 

He's even testing out the door a bit. 

Yaku sighs. Nothing can ever be easy, and nothing can ever work out the way that they should. Things can, apparently, _never_ be easy. 

Yaku tosses the balled up sports bra back into his locker, and slams the door. Fuck this fuck this  _fuck this_. 

He slaps a hand on Kuroo's shoulder, pretends like the way he has to reach up to do so doesn't bother him, "We're leaving."

Kuroo blinks at him, "We have practice." 

Yaku shakes his head, "Not today we don't." he says plainly, "Call it a mental health day." 

Kuroo's mouth twitches as he realizes what's going on, and he nods. He bends down to mutter something to Kenma, who grimaces, but nods, and then Kuroo closes his locker and follows Yaku out of the locker room, and away from the gym. 

The pair make it about twenty meters away when Kuroo pauses, takes a deep breath, and then speed walks off. 

Yaku is about to ask what the hell he's doing when Kuroo suddenly doubles over a trashbin and vomits into it, hands gripping the edges of the bin tight enough that his knuckles turn white as he retches. Yaku sighs, but walks over, one hand rubbing carefully over Kuroo's spine and the other reaching around the side of his backpack to pull out a water bottle. 

Kuroo's hands shake slightly as he accepts it, taking a mouthful and spitting it out disdainfully, staring at the bile at the bottom of the trash can, expressionless. 

"How long have you been feeling sick?" Yaku asks.

Kuroo grimaces, "A week?" he shrugs almost casually, takes another sip of water and actually swallows it this time, "Didn't think I'd actually get sick." 

"Mmhmm, what have you eaten today?" 

Kuroo deliberately looks away, "Nothing." He mutters, and doesn't have to look at Yaku's face to know the expression that he's being given. "It wasn't  _helping_. I always felt worse, after, so I figured it couldn't hurt that much."

"Looks like it can." Yaku replies, smoothing his hand over Kuroo's back one more time, "Come on, you need to eat something." 

"I don't want to." Kuroo whines, only to stop suddenly and swallow hard. He nods without another word, one hand coming up and wrapping his fingers carefully around the straps of one of Yaku's backpacks, like he needs the anchor. Yaku doesn't protest, just leads the two of them off. 

They make it to Yaku's house with little drama. They only had to stop once to allow Kuroo to retch on the side of the road, but he'd only dry-heaved before nodding weakly at Yaku that he was okay to continue walking, and they continued. 

Kuroo sits at the table, burying his head in his arms, and even from across the kitchen, Yaku can hear him taking large, deliberate breaths. Yaku returns with a small package of crackers and a new cup of water, placing them in front of Kuroo on the table. 

"Eat." Yaku tells him gently, and Kuroo lifts his head, and the corner of Yaku's mouth twists downwards sadly when he sees that Kuroo is crying. 

"'m sorry." Kuroo rasps, wiping at his face and taking one of the crackers. 

"What for?" Yaku asks gently. 

" _You_ were the one who was feeling bad," the younger teen replies, "And now you're stuck taking care of me instead of taking care of yourself. I-I should leave, I should go home, I'm sorry..."

"Nope." Yaku says, nudging the crackers closer, "You're not going to leave, because _I_ don't want to leave. If you leave, I'm going to have to go with you to make sure that you're okay, because I worry about you, so it's just easier if the two of us stay here, and no one leaves. We're going to stay here. You're okay, Kuroo, you're not bothering me." 

Kuroo shakes his head, but doesn't protest, just accepts another cracker from Yaku and eats it carefully. 

"Don't move, okay. I'm going to get blankets, and then we're going to move to the living room and we're going to watch that shitty movie that you haven't shut up about for the past week, alright?" He doesn't stick around to see Kuroo's response, just goes. 

Usually, he'd take off his binder, because the shitty thing is uncomfortable. But he doesn't. Yaku gets the blankets and holds them out in front of himself, not allowing his arms anywhere near his chest, because he doesn't want to feel the slight give of his own stupid flesh when he presses too tightly. 

"Feeling any better?" Yaku asks, "You don't still feel like you're going to be sick, right?" 

Kuroo shakes his head, and Yaku jerks his to indicate the couch. Kuroo stands, he does look better, if a little wobbly, and snags the package of crackers before walking over. Yaku wraps the two of them up in the blankets, and Kuroo presses himself against Yaku's side, eating another cracker whenever Yaku prompts him to. 

The movie is shitty, and it's enough to get laughs out of Yaku and Kuroo before Kuroo falls asleep, his head lolling against Yaku's shoulder. That's how Yaku's mom finds the two of them, Kuroo's body an uncomfortably twisted mass and Yaku's hand combing gently through his hair, both of them wrapped in heavy blankets. 

"Bad day?" Yaku's mom whispers, and Yaku nods in affirmation. She nods, bending over to press a kiss to Yaku's head and then to Kuroo's, who doesn't even twitch. "You'll be okay," she says, "I'll go make dinner." Her eyes fall on the empty package of crackers on the coffee table, "Something light?" And Yaku nods, relieved, because he _likes_ to take care of people, especially his friends, but it's late and he's tired. His mom nods back, ruffling his hair, "Take a nap or something kid, you look like shit." 

Yaku snorts, and doesn't reply only because Kuroo shifts sleepily, and Yaku doesn't want to wake him up yet. So instead, he just jerks his head in affirmation, and settles himself more firmly against Kuroo and the couch, finally letting his eyes close. He won't be able to sleep long, but he doesn't mind, and he falls asleep to the muffled sounds of his mother in the kitchen. 

**Author's Note:**

> i've found that sometimes helping others helps me, gives me something other than how shitty i'm feeling to focus on.  
> also yaku is a few months older than kuroo, and im glad that i foudn this out
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.princex-n.tumblr.com).


End file.
